


What's in it for me?

by eticatka



Series: Striketober 2020 [7]
Category: Cormoran Strike Series - Robert Galbraith
Genre: Drunk Cormoran Strike, Drunken Confessions, F/M, Love Confessions, Sober Robin Ellacott, Striketober | Cormoran Strike Fictober 2020
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-15
Updated: 2020-10-15
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:40:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 344
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27032074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eticatka/pseuds/eticatka
Summary: Strike is on his fourth pint at Tottenham, because he's desperate. Or vice versa.(Includes a tiny bit of Strike-rated language)
Relationships: Robin Ellacott/Cormoran Strike
Series: Striketober 2020 [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1956391
Comments: 21
Kudos: 49
Collections: Striketober | Cormoran Strike Fictober 2020





	What's in it for me?

**Author's Note:**

> My Striketober fics are getting ever longer :D I hope it doesn't count as posting two fics on the same day, since it's technically Friday in my time zone (and if it does, I hope that's OK).

When Robin entered Tottenham, Strike was already obviously drunk. He sat at the table in the corner, with a half-finished pint, his eyes misty and a bit watery.

“Rob’n,” he said with an effort. “You found me.”

“Wasn’t that difficult, given that we arranged to meet here tonight.”

“No. You found me… y’know… in general. Back then.”

“Is it your fourth pint?” Robin asked matter-of-factly, pointing at the glass.

“A f’cking detective, are you?” Strike looked at her with pride, as she sat down next to him.

“Yes, I’m actually considering trying myself as a private investigator. Do you happen to know any decent agency?”

“It’s my fourth pint after a whisky, actually,” Strike confessed. “Rob’n, I’m desp’rate.”

“Why?”

She was already picturing walking her partner back home and pushing his bulk up the stairs. This had to be the last pint.

“’Cause… I have the best job ev’r. The best. No competition. The team is fucking amazing. Shitload of money. But what’s in it for me?”

“Well, you’ve just said: the best job, the amazing team, the shitload—”

“No, you don’t ‘sstand. I ask, what’s in it for me if the only woman I love doesn’ love me back?”

_Does he mean Charlotte? Is he in such a state because of her?_

“Are you sure?” Robin asked cautiously. She decided to be compassionate whatever the answer to her unasked question was.

“No. Gotta ask her, I guess.”

“Go on then. Take out your phone, call her and ask her. Maybe not exactly now, but when you’re able to articulate something more or less comprehensible.”

“Don’t need my phone.”

“What, are you gonna use telepathy?”

“Rob’n, d’you love me?”

The world around her stopped. She heard no more of the pub’s noise, laughter, music and chatter. She didn’t see anything but his enormous drunken eyes, full with hope. And as much as every cell in her body wanted to scream “yes!”, she pulled herself together and took a deep breath.

“Let’s take you home, Strike. Now. And I’ll answer your question in the morning.”


End file.
